


A Light in My Darkness

by jdmusiclover



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 12:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2581343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdmusiclover/pseuds/jdmusiclover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding and having a conversation with the Snow Queen's dark, cursed mirror, Killian becomes convinced that he can never escape the darkness within. He tries to avoid Emma and her family so as not to contaminate them with the evil within, but after completing a task Rumple demands, Killian winds up in jail-and Emma demands to know what's really going on with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma felt David’s eyes on her as he drove the police cruiser toward Gold’s shop. She kept her eyes resolutely forward, focusing on the road before them.  She knew what she would see if she looked over at her dad—sympathy, concern, the desire to “fix it”.  She wasn’t in the mood for it, _any_ of it.  There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about this ridiculously screwed up situation, and if he started throwing out empty platitudes and his trademark optimism she was going to start screaming bloody murder!

David cleared his throat, and Emma inwardly sighed in frustration. She should have known he wouldn’t let it be.

“Emma,” he began hesitantly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said in a hard voice. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just doing my job.”

He looked over at her again. If he didn’t stop watching her and start watching the road they were going to end up in a ditch.  “Come on Emma; it’s Killian!  We need to talk about this.  We need to…”

She cut him off with a quick downward motion of the hand. “What’s there to talk about?” she said in a tightly controlled voice.  “My stupid pirate boyfriend did something stupid.  And piratey.  And illegal. And violent.  And I’m going to find out what’s really going on before I head back to the sheriff’s station and kill him.”

David sighed. “I thought he’d changed.  I thought he was done with his villainous ways.”

Emma’s eyes blazed, and she turned toward her father for the first time. “He _has_ changed,” she fumed.  “He _has_ given up his ‘villainous ways’.  He isn’t anywhere near the man he was when I first met him back in the Enchanted Forest.”

“I hate to say this; I really do,” David said hesitantly, “but maybe we misjudged him. Maybe he’s managed to pull the wool over our eyes.  Maybe…”

Trust her father—the former shepherd to use _that_ particular figure of speech!

“No!” she said in a cold voice…a deadly cold voice. “Reading people was my job.  I know when people are lying.  I know when people are playing me.  I’ve spent enough time tracking the scum of the earth to recognize every one of their tricks, every one of their tells.  Killian isn’t showing any of them.  Something is up with Killian, but it’s _not_ that he’s ‘pulling the wool over our eyes’.”

David sighed again, but evidently decided to let the subject drop. “So why exactly is it that we’re going to talk to Gold?  What does he have to do with Killian beating the living daylights out of a man late last night?”

“You don’t think it’s odd that the man Killian beat last night was the very man Gold had a very public—and very heated—argument with yesterday afternoon just outside his shop?”

“Well, it is quite a coincidence,” David conceded, “but come on Emma! You’ve got to be kidding!  Killian’s about the last person I could see Gold hiring to do his dirty work.  I mean, the two of them don’t seem to be at each other’s throats any more, but they’ll still never be ‘mates’.”

“I don’t know,” Emma conceded in frustration. “All I know is that I don’t trust that scaly imp any farther than I can throw him.  If he’s involved, I’m going to find out, and when I do, I’m going to rip him a new one.”

Ten minutes later Emma pulled the door of the pawn shop open and stormed inside. Gold looked up curiously at the tinkling of the bell, and his face fell into its usual lines of sardonic amusement.

“Ah,” he drawled, “Miss Swan and her Charming father. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Not sure anything about this is going to be pleasurable,” Emma said, “but we’re here to ask you a few questions.”

“In what capacity?” Gold asked as he went back to polishing a strange looking clock “personal or professional?”

“A man was beaten pretty badly last night, and we want to know if you have any information about the incident.” David answered.

“So, you’re here in your professional capacities, then.”

“Yeah, and it’d be in your best interest to cooperate,” Emma said, leaning over the counter and grabbing the polishing cloth from the man’s smug hand.

“Just who is it who was beaten, and what makes you think I have anything to do with it, Dearie?” he asked, a tinge of malice clearly detectible in his smooth voice.

“Ezra Sweeney’s the victim,” David said.

“Ah,” Gold said with a nod, “so the miserly banker finally pushed someone too far. Not surprising, but I fail to see what part you think I have in any of it.”

Emma’s temper, already close to the surface ever since she’d been called out to the Sweeney mansion last night, exploded. She banged both fists against Gold’s counter with such force that the clock he’d been polishing jumped and would have fallen to the floor had the man not rescued it.  “You know damn well why you’d be under suspicion and why we’re here,” she spat.  “About a dozen people called the station yesterday afternoon to report the very public shouting match you had with Mr. Sweeny.  You want us to believe the fact he was beaten later that night is just a coincidence?”

Gold’s eyes glinted. “Careful, Miss Swan,” he said through gritted teeth.  “You want to be very careful before you accuse me of any wrong-doing without proof.”

“Is that a threat?” she shouted.

Emma felt David’s hand on her arm.. “No one’s accusing anyone of anything.  We just need to get to the bottom of what happened and why.”

Gold held Emma’s furious gaze for a beat, and then turned toward David. “I can assure you I took no part in the assaulting of Mr. Sweeney.  I spent a cozy evening at home with my wife.  Shall I call Belle to confirm my whereabouts to you?”

“That won’t be necessary,” David said calmly. “We just need to know if you have any information.”

Gold shrugged. “Ezra Sweeney, or Ebenezer Scrooge, as he’s know back in his home realm, is a miserly snake.  I’ve no doubt there are any number of people who might have motive for attacking him.  Have you any leads on the attacker?”

Emma looked away uncomfortably. “We arrested Killian last night.”

Gold smirked again. “The cowardly pirate strikes again.  Leave it to _Hook_ to attack an old man in his own home.”

“But it just doesn’t make _sense_!” Emma insisted, more to herself than to the owner of the pawn shop.  “Killian doesn’t just go attacking people for no reason.  He’s changed.”

“I beg to differ, Dearie,” Gold said in a voice of barely concealed rage. “There’s a darkness inside Killian Jones, a darkness that goes all the way to the bone.  He can try all he wants, but he’ll never uproot that darkness.  If you think he’ll ever change, you’re delusional.”

“No,” Emma said in a cold deadly voice. “You’re the one who’s delusional.  If I find out you’re somehow behind this, I’ll throw you in jail for so long you’ll start growing mold!”

“Be my guest,” Gold drawled, “but until you start admitting to yourself just who your pathetic boyfriend really is, you aren’t worth a damn as a sheriff.”

Emma clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palm so hard they nearly broke the skin. Then, turning on her heels she marched out.  It was either that or plant her fist in Mr. Gold’s arrogant face.

 

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

 

Killian sat on the jail cell cot and hung his head. Utter desolation crashed over him in waves.  He had tried so hard to change, to be the man Swan deserved, to be the man Charming liked and admired, to be the man _he_ wanted to be, but it was time to admit the ugly truth.  The Crocodile was right.  The darkness was a cancer within him.  It was part of his very make up and he would never be rid of it.

He’d tried to tell himself the Crocodile was wrong; that he’d been employing tricks; that the hand really had been cursed. He’d tried to tell himself he’d changed, that he’d become a better man, that he wasn’t utterly unworthy of the affection and even _love_ he saw shining out of his sweet lass’s eyes every time she looked at him now, but he was merely fooling himself.

The darkness was not merely within him, it was an integral part of his very make up and he would never be free of it.

If his actions during his date with Emma and what happened later on that accursed night were not indication enough of his true nature, what happened a week ago surely was all the proof he would ever need.

One week past, he’d stumbled upon the Snow Queen’s lair, sent there by the bloody Crocodile. Gold had sent him to the Snow Queen’s chilly hideout in search of the source of her power.  He’d been given precious little by way of descriptions or instructions.  When he’d asked what he should retrieve, the Crocodile had smiled rather nastily and assured him he would know it when he saw it.

The first thing that struck him as he cautiously stepped into the frozen interior was the blinding white of _everything_.  In his black leather and midnight blue shirt, he stood out like a hideous stain.  It made his heart sink.  Was that all he was?  A stain, a blot that would slowly but surely infect and contaminate all that came in contact with it?  Would he destroy Emma and her family with his continued presence in their lives?  What made him think he was worthy of their trust of him?

“So you’ve come to see me at last,” spoke a voice. Killian spun on his heels, heart pounding.  Had the Snow Queen returned?  But no, that was a _man’s_ voice he heard—a voice that sounded suspiciously like his own.  From whence had it come?

“Over here,” the voice called jovially. Killian spun around until he found himself face to face with his own visage in a large mirror in an ornate, white frame. _Was this the terrible mirror Belle warned us all about?_ ’

“What?” the voice mocked, “is the great Captain Hook, the terror of the seven seas afraid to take a glimpse in a mirror? Could it be that you are as cowardly as that Crocodile you’re so often maligning?”

“I fear nothing!” Killian shouted, striding forward until he stood directly before the sodding thing.

The Hook in the mirror laughed maliciously. “You’re not afraid of anything?  Tell me, do _you_ even believe the lies you tell yourself?”

Killian remained stoically silent. He would not be seduced by the dark magic here.

“Do you know what I think _mate_?” mirror Hook asked.  “I think you know full well that you are afraid, terrified in fact, that the lovely Miss Swan will find out the truth about you.  The truth that you are now and always will be a villain.”

“That’s a bloody lie,” Killian spat. “I’ve changed!  I’ve spent every moment since I found Emma in New York working to become a better man—a man worthy of her.”

Mirror Killian laughed derisively. “You think you could _ever_ be worthy of Emma Swan?  You?  With all your filth and darkness.  Let me tell you a little secret, Hook.  You’ve only won Emma’s heart because she doesn’t know who and what you really are.”

Killian tensed.   “I will not listen!  I will not fall under your spell!”

Mirror Hook grinned. “There’s no magic here.  I don’t know what _Belle_ told you, but I show nothing more nor less than the naked, unvarnished truth about any who gaze upon me.  A truth you know all too well, _Hook_.  You know full well who you are.”

“A man of honor,” Killian ground out.

“No,” Mirror Hook growled. “No, you viciously rooted out any thread of _honor_ you once had the moment you became a pirate—and you filled it with the darkness.  The darkness claimed you for its own a long time ago and you’ll _never_ break free.  You, _Captain_ , have become the darkness.”

“No,” Killian said, turning away, trying to block out the hateful voice.

“Aye!” mirror Hook countered. “You think I lie?  Test out what I say.  Why haven’t you told your precious Emma about your collaborations with Rumplestiltskin?  If you’re truly a ‘good man’ why are you keeping distasteful secrets from the woman you love?  It’s simple, isn’t it, Hook?  You refuse to tell her because you know she’ll leave you.  You know she’ll despise you, and you know the pain of her loss will make you shrivel up and die—just as you deserve.”

“No! Emma will understand; she will stand beside me.”

“Will she?” mirror Hook asked, and then shrugged. “Maybe.  Maybe she will, but how long do you think it will be before your darkness corrupts and destroys her?  How long before you smother her light?  You destroy _everyone_ you love.  Liam, Milah, Baelfire.  They’re all dead.  You are a curse upon those unfortunate enough to be loved by you.  What makes you think your precious Emma will be any different?  If you had even a shred of that _honor_ you claim to have, you’d run as far from your lass as you can get.”

Killian had heard enough. He’d heard far more than enough!  This menace must be destroyed.  He advanced, hook raised, ready for destruction.

“That’s it!” mirror Hook praised, “Don’t fight it Hook. Give in to the rage.  Hit me, break me. _Smash me_!

Abruptly Killian stopped. Smashing the mirror was precisely what the Snow Queen wanted, wasn’t it?  What was it that Belle had called it?  The curse of the shattered sight?  He may be tainted beyond help, but he’d be damned before he was the instrument the Snow Queen used to destroy the town he called home!

Killian had turned tail and fled from the lair, not even bothering to look for whatever bloody item the Crocodile had sent him to fetch.

But the mirror’s words had been far more difficult to outrun. They were inescapable, because Killian knew with every fiber of his being that they were true.

Over the ensuing week, Killian had used every excuse under the sun to avoid spending time with Emma and her family.   Villain though he may be, he loved her.  He loved her so much he ached with it, so much it was a fist squeezing his heart as he tried to sleep at night, so much he feared he could no longer breathe without her.  Loved her so much that he refused to snuff out her light with his darkness, refused to subject her to the curse of being loved by him.  He should leave Storybrooke, but God help him he was weak.  He could not leave her.

And so he’d found himself easy prey yesterday evening when the Crocodile had sought him out to demand his services. Killian hated himself thinking about what he’d done, thinking about Emma finding him and locking him in jail.  There had been a small part of him that had still believed he could be saved, a small part of him that believed Emma, the only light in his darkness, could be his saving grace.

Now he knew better. Now that she’d been privy to the blackness that still resided in his very soul, she’d likely never want to set eyes on his pathetic face again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Emma took a deep breath as she stared at the closed doors of the sheriff’s station.  The conversation with Gold had gone exactly nowhere.  She needed to talk to Killian, but she didn’t even know how to start the conversation.

“You want me to come with you?” David asked, placing his hand comfortingly on her shoulder.  “I can conduct the interrogation if that’d be easier for you.”

Emma squeezed her father’s hand.  “Thanks Dad, but I need to do this on my own.  This isn’t just about the investigation; it’s about getting to the bottom of what’s going on with the man I l--, I mean the man I care a great deal about.  Something’s not right, and I need to find out what it is.”

David hugged her warmly, his hand cradling the back of her head.  “Okay, but Emma, your mother and I are only a phone call away if you need anything.  Don’t hesitate to call.”

Emma’s eyes filled.  “Thanks, Dad.  You have no idea how much that means to me.” Having a family to lean on in difficult moments meant _everything_.

She watched as her father walked back to the police cruiser, started the engine, and drove off in the direction of his flat, then she took another deep breath and pushed open the sheriff’s station door.

Something was going on with Killian, something he was keeping strictly to himself.  He’d been avoiding her for the better part of a week; as a veteran avoider, herself, she could spot the signs from a mile away.  The question was _why_?  The cynical part of her, the part that she’d let be in charge most of her life—up until her time travel adventure with Killian—told her that he’d gotten tired of her.  He’d lasted longer than most others, but it had always been just a matter of time before he’d leave her like everyone else.  But Emma had made a conscious decision to silence that voice of skepticism, to open her heart and to _trust_.  She wasn’t going to abandon that at the first trial.  Killian loved her, she was absolutely certain of that, and when he loved, he loved completely, devotedly, and with utter abandon.  The kind of love Killian displayed didn’t just go away.

Beyond that, there was something else going on.  An air of sadness, depression, hopelessness had hung over Killian for the last several days.  It was almost palpable.  Something was eating at him, devouring him from the inside, and Emma ached to find out what it was, to soothe him, to make it better.  It almost reminded her of what happened a few weeks ago when Zelena cursed his lips in order to take her magic.  Was that the problem?  Had the Snow Queen gotten to him?  Was he trying to protect her? Henry? Her parents? The town?  _What was going on_?

Emma rounded the corner and caught a glimpse of the jail cell—and its inhabitant—and her heart dropped to her toes.  Killian looked completely devastated, his forearms resting on his knees, his head hanging.  She walked quickly to her desk, retrieved the key and headed for the cell.  He didn’t even look up as she approached.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he said so quietly she could barely hear.

She opened the cell door and sat on the cot beside him.  He looked at her then, his eyes twin pools of anguish.  Wordlessly she handed him a couple aspirin and a bottle of water.

“Here,” she said, “you’re hand’s gotta hurt.  These will help.”

He took the medicine meekly, with a whispered thanks and then handed the bottle back to her.

Emma looked away.  His bleakness was threatening to make her cry, and she needed to stay clearheaded to get to the bottom of everything.  Best stick with the facts until she could get her emotions under control.  “I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Sweeney’s doing alright.  He sustained no broken bones or substantial injuries; just bumps and bruises.  That being the case, David and I convinced him not to press charges.”

“Thank you love,” Killian said quietly.  “That’s a relief.  It was never my intention to cause him harm.”

She looked at him then, curious.  “Why Killian?  Why did you do it?  What’s going on?”

Killian shrugged.  “You know me, Emma.  You know I’m a pirate and always will be.  Best resign yourself to the fact that I am a villain.  That I do terrible things.”

The anger came sharp and fast.  “No,” she bit out.  “No!  What I know, Killian is that you’ve changed.  You’re a good man, a man who’s been beside me through _everything_ Peter Pan, Zelena and the Snow Queen have had to throw at us.  A man who gave up his home to help me, to help the whole town!  Those aren’t the actions of a villain.”

He shook his head, resigned sadness lurking behind his blue eyes.  Almost as though he couldn’t stop himself, he cupped her cheek in his bruised hand.  “I thought so, love,” he said quietly.  “I truly thought so.  I tried to be the man you want me to be, a man _worthy_ of you.  I tried so hard to put my villainous past behind me, but I finally realize all my endeavors were futile.  There is a darkness inside of me, a darkness so deep it’s within my very bones.  Much as I try, I can never escape it.”

Emma narrowed her eyes.  That sounded suspiciously like what Rumple had said to her not half an hour ago.  “Who told you that?”

He shrugged.  “Does it matter?  The truth is the truth regardless of who speaks it.”

“It was Rumple, wasn’t it?” she said in a hard voice.  “Rumple put these ideas about darkness into your mind.  He’s the instigator behind all of this.”

Killian remained resolutely silent.

“For the love of God, Killian,” she growled in frustration.  “Stop shutting me out!  Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?  Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because,” he said spiritedly.  “I don’t want to lose you!  I don’t want to see the care and affection go out of your eyes when you know what I’ve done, what I am!  I can’t bear the thought of you despising me and turning from me!”

He was so afraid; Emma could see it in his eyes.  She knew that fear—the fear that someone desperately important to him was about to leave him.  Her ache to comfort him increased, if that was even possible.  She leaned forward and wrapped him in her arms.  He stiffened for a moment, and then he relaxed, his arms going around her.

“I don’t care what you’ve done, Killian,” she whispered into his neck.  “I don’t care!  I know who you are.  I know what’s in here.”  She placed a hand over his heart.  “Please, please just tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

He sighed, tightened his arms around her for a second, and then let her go.  Slowly, the whole tale came out.  “Some time past, I discovered some information about the Crocodile—information that could cause serious damage to his relationship with his wife.  I used it to blackmail him.”

“You blackmailed the Dark One?” she asked incredulously.

“Aye,” he said with a self-deprecating grimace.  “Not my most intelligent move, I will admit.”

“That’s putting it mildly.  What did you want from him so badly that you were willing to stoop to blackmail to get it?”

He looked away uncomfortably.  “My hand,” he breathed.

_His hand?  That’s how he got it back for our date?_

“Why?”

He looked back at her.  “You’d asked me on a date Swan, and I wanted to be worthy of you.  I wanted to be _whole_ for you.  I wanted to be able to hold you with both hands should things go well that night.”

Tears pricked her eyes and the back of her throat.  He’d always seemed so confident and self-assured.  She’d never realized how self-conscious he was about his disability.  She grasped his left arm and brought the hook to her lips.  She kissed it tenderly, and watched as wonder lit his eyes.  “Killian, I’ve _never_ cared whether you had a hand, a hook or a bare stump.  I care about _you_.”

He smiled tenderly.  “I realized that as our date progressed.  You are truly an amazing woman, Emma.  I’m reminded every day of just how unworthy I am to have you in my life.”

Emma hugged him tightly once again, and then sat back.  “I’d be willing to bet your ‘Crocodile’ didn’t take being blackmailed lying down.”

“No, love,” Killian said with a sigh.  He went on to explain the whole sordid tale to her—how Rumple had messed with his mind about his “cursed hand”, how Rumple had, in effect, made him his slave for life. 

“And so Emma,” Killian concluded.  “The Crocodile showed me the true darkness that resides in my very soul.”

Anger bubbled hot and dangerous within Emma.  It must have shown on her face; what little life was left in Killian’s eyes died out, and he turned from her in despair. 

“How could you believe that son of a bitch?” Emma bit out.  “You have to know he was just playing with your head!”

“I had some hope that was true,” Killian conceded, “but I’ve since learned the unmistakable truth of all Rumplestiltskin was telling me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The Crocodile sent me on a mission to the Snow Queen’s lair.  I’ve since come to believe it was but a ruse to increase my distress.  In any case, I came face to face with the Queen’s dark mirror.”

Emma gasped.

“Quite so, love.  It’s a right nasty thing, without question.  Belle spoke the truth when she told us it tells its viewer terrible things.”  Killian stopped for a moment and scratched behind his ear.  “But I believe it also tells the truth.  The complete and unvarnished truth.  When it spoke to me, I felt the justice in the faults for which it convicted me all the way to the core of my being.”

“What did it tell you?”

“It told me about the darkness within, the darkness that I can never be rid of, because I have _become_ the darkness.  Not only is the darkness an integral part of me, but it’s inevitable that it will bleed over to those I love, those I care for.  If left unchecked, it will snuff any bit of light left around me.  I’m naught but a curse to those near.  And that, Emma, is why I’ve kept my distance.  It’s been torture being away from your side, but I cannot, I will not destroy you.  I love you far too much for that.”

Emma let the tears flow down her cheeks.  She was beginning to grasp the true danger of that witches damned mirror.  It preyed on a person’s fears and insecurities; it gave just enough truth in its warped pronouncements that the hearer just about lost hope.

“Killian…” she began, but the words wouldn’t come, wouldn’t move past the lump in her throat.  Emma spoke to him in the only way she was able.  She leaned forward and caressed his lips with her own, wanting to comfort, wanting to absolve, wanting to show him how very wrong he was about himself.  The kiss was tender, gentle, and disappointingly brief.  She didn’t want to get caught up in the heat and passion that was never far from the surface when Killian’s lips joined with hers.

Emma sat back and took a moment to compose herself.  “Killian, I swear that I will never lie to you.  Do you trust me?”

There were tears in his eyes, but he nodded.  “Aye, love.”

“Good,” Emma said.  She threaded her fingers with his.  “You told me your story, now I have a few things to say to you, and I’d appreciate it if you’d let me get this out without interruption, okay?”

Killian’s face settled into resigned lines, and then he nodded.  “Only fair, I suppose.”

“Alright,” Emma began.  “First of all, what were you thinking?  Blackmailing Rumple was about the stupidest idea you could have possibly had.”

“Emma, I…”

“No interrupting, remember?”

“Very well, proceed.”

She squeezed his hand gently—very gently, aware of how tender it must be.  “But do you know what I heard as you told me your story—both about Rumple and about the mirror?  I heard the tale of a man who spent a lot of time steeped in the darkness, but who desperately wants to turn to the light.  I heard the story of a man who did everything humanly possible—even asking his worst enemy to cut off his freaking hand—to become a good man, a man of honor.  I heard the story of a man who was so afraid of hurting those he loves, that he was willing to leave them, even if it meant destroying his own chance at happiness.  Those aren’t the actions of a man who has a darkness so deep within him that he’ll never be rid of it.  Those are the actions of a hero.”

Emma looked up, and saw the tears pool in Killian’s eyes.  She reached up her free hand and wiped them away.  “Killian, you have darkness within you, but so do I, so do my parents, so does _everyone_.  We all have regrets.  We all have moments in our past we wish to God had never happened.  It’s not important that the darkness is there.  What’s important is what we choose to do with it.  What you told me today proves that you’re choosing to do everything in your power to turn away from the darkness—and it makes me admire the hell out of you.”

Killian’s eyes blazed, and he surged forward.  This time when their lips met, Emma would swear fireworks went off above them.  It was explosive, all need and want and deep, abiding love.  She opened her mouth and welcomed him eagerly.  Her hands threaded through his hair, trying to pull him closer, closer.  It went on and on, mouths fusing and pulling apart, heads tilting one way and then the other, hands roaming. 

Finally Killian pulled back, breathing hard.  “Emma,” he groaned.  “I love you to the very depth of my soul.  What did I ever do to deserve a lass like you?”

She laughed through the tears still streaming down her face.  “Probably the same thing I did to deserve a man like you.”

He kissed her again, softer, gentler this time.  His love gave her life, made her realize that there was nothing they couldn’t do together.  The Snow Queen with all her winter weather and dark mirrors and “curse of the shattered sight” didn’t stand a chance.

“Killian,” she said when the kiss finally ended.

“Aye love?”

“Please don’t shut me out again,” she pleaded.  “We’re a team.  I need you beside me.  You’re my rock, my compass, my own light when the darkness starts to close in.  I can’t do this without you.  I need you beside me.  I…I think I’m dangerously close to falling completely and totally in love with you.   Please, don’t ever be afraid to talk to me again…about anything.”

“You have my word of honor,” Killian said with the soft, gentle smile he reserved only for her.

“That’s good enough for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--Basically, the point of this chapter was to have Emma tell Killian everything I would tell him if I were able to. I hated what Rumple did to Killian in “The Apprentice.” I feel very strongly that everyone can be redeemed, that no matter what or how many terrible things someone has done in the past, they always have the possibility for redemption. But, in order to truly reach that redemption, they need the support of those around them. They need to be given a chance—a chance to prove themselves, a chance to make their present and future better than their past. And they also need praise and acknowledgement when they are trying and they are working hard to be the best version of themselves. I get Rumple’s anger and animosity, after all, Killian did blackmail him and threaten his marriage, but his insistence that Killian is filled with darkness and will never change really struck a nerve.  
> \--And then I just had to throw in a few kisses and some mutual ILY’s—because, I mean, let’s be honest. What Captain Swan fic is complete without that? :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Hi everyone! I decided I needed to join the throng of fanfiction writers, producing angsty stories about Killian encountering the dark mirror—and also dealing with his little Rumplestiltskin problem. The inspiration for this little story came from the events in 4x4 and 4x6, of course, but also the behind the scenes photos we saw a few months back of Colin sitting in the jail cell.  
> \--I know this chapter is depressing, but this was as far as the muse would take me today. Don’t worry, though! There’s a chapter 2 in the works, and things will definitely start looking up!


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